Chapter 1
Cybertron, 1 stellar cycle ago,
The room definitely had a military feel to it. It was metal, with little furniture save the large desk and chair directly across from the door. The walls were lined with computers and met in a dome-like ceiling with a light source at the top.
In front of the huge desk paced an old transformer. He was medium sized, with a gray and blue paint job, and with bright orange optics. As he paced, one could notice a slight limp in his step, which caused him to walk slowly. Not because it hurt, but because he did not want to appear like an old soldier with a battle wound. In truth, that's just what he was.
Before him stood five warriors, each about twenty-five stellar cycles of age. There were three males with violet, green, and light blue optics and two females one with deep turquoise optics the other with scarlet red ones. They all stood straight and motionless, waiting for their commander's address. He took a deep breath, faced them, and straightened out placing his hands behind his back.
"This meeting is classified," he began. "Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir, Commander Prowl," they responded in one voice and saluted him.
"Good," he paced for another moment then spoke again. "The five of you have been selected as the best. This isn't the military anymore, bots. We are not only in the business of shooting, but also finding information. This is the M.I.U.—Maximal Intelligence Unit—although that may not be the best name for it. This is the branch of the Citadel that only a selected few know exists and very few Maximals get in. I'm not even talking about the Predacons. The Tripredicus Council doesn't even know about the M.I.U.'s existence."
"As I've said before, of you have been chosen as the best of the best. You have all proven yourselves; top of your classes at the M.T.A.—Maximal Training Academy—highest scores on tests, combat simulations, and the best in real battle. That is why you are here today."
"Now, what are you here for, you ask. Well, as you know, the peace talks between the Maximal Elders and the Tripredicus Council are keeping the Predacons at bay, but are not getting very far. We know most Predacons don't want peace: they want Cybertron. We've also heard rumors of certain Predacons going rouge and created miniature terrorist groups. Each of you will receive a specific assignment that somehow relates to this. You are not to discuss your orders with anyone but myself and each other. Is that clear?"
"Sir, yes, sir!" echoed around the room.
"Good. You will meet me back here in fifteen solar cycles to receive your assignments. Until then, I have one suggestion on what to do with your time: live, because you won't get a chance for a long time after that. You're all dismissed," he saluted them. The five bots returned the salute and left the room.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Well, did you hear that?" the blue eyed male nodded towards the door. "We're the best!"
"Which means you might want to start acting your age, Astroburn," the red eyed female pointed out.
"Oh, I wouldn't blame him, Isis," said the other female. "He's young, impulsive…He's just…"
"Male." Isis finished for her friend and they both burst into laughter.
"They're acting like we're not even here," Astroburn whispered to the green-eyed male.
"Huh, females," he replied with a humph.
"Wouldn't be talking if I were you, Celadon," Isis warned him, "Dila and I could wipe the floor with you, right here, right now."
"Knock it off!" yelled the other male. "I, for one, won't waste my time fighting with any of you. There are a few places I'd like to check out."
"If it involves female bots minus their torso plates, I'm in," Celadon grinned, but both women slapped him over the head.
"No, nothing like that," the male waved his hand dismissingly.
"Well, go ahead, Taratron, since you're the only decent male here," Dila encouraged him. "Tell us."
"Thank you," Taratron was about to start, but Astroburn interrupted him.
"Hey, is it about a race?"
"Shut up, Astroburn!" yelled his comrades.
"Actually, it's about the Predacons." Taratron replied.
Astroburn had to admit Taratron had his attention. He had everyone's attention.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Megatron?!" Dila echoed Taratron's words. "You're kidding. I mean, not even the Tripredicus Council likes him. How many did you say?"
"Megatron and four other Predacons," he replied. "Everyone is after them, even their own people."
"So?" Astroburn shrugged. "That's only five Preds."
"They are all very dangerous people," Taratron warned his companions. "One of them is considered one of the best warriors on Cybertron. Another was in charge of the Predacons new plan for the Maximal prisoners of war."
"Isn't that where any Maximal POW would be tortured?" Isis double-checked. "I remember that. The guy in charge was…I forgot his name."
"But you know who I'm talking about."
"Of course."
"So now, both Predacon and Maximal security is chasing them all over Cybertron," Taratron concluded.
"Then let them worry about it," Celadon stood up and stretched. "I don't care about that. I'm planning on doing just what the commander said and live. See you guys later."
"Yeah, I gotta go too," Astroburn waved good-bye.
"Me too," Dila got up and walked out.
As the first three left, Isis got up to leave, but Taratron caught her hand. "Hey listen," he said. "How would you like to do a bit of investigating into this?"
Isis thought for a moment. "What do you have in mind?"
"I'd like for someone to do a bit of investigating into this whole Megatron thing, especially this 'mad scientist.' Things like where his laboratory is, what he does to the bots, and possibly how to bring him down. All the info should be in one place, on a disk or something like that. I would go, but this mission requires your…" Taratron posed looking for the right words, "area of expertise."
Isis' optics sparkled. "You said the magic words. What do I do first?"